Yellow Bug
by Lola2255
Summary: When Emma met Neal Cassidy.


**A/N: This had been sitting in my computer for months so I thought I'd share it. Enjoy :)**

* * *

 **May 28** **th** **, 2000**

There it was. The bright yellow bug from yesterday when Emma had first laid eyes on it. She'd been walking out of a Gas N' Sip when she'd seen the bug sitting in the half empty parking lot. It'd been empty and still, when she had put her hand on the hood she could feel the warmth coming off it. Right then she knew she had to have it. With a car she could do _so much_. She could get out of Portland and go somewhere new, somewhere where no one knew her name or what she'd been through the last few years. She could start over, make a new, long lasting life for herself. No hassles or worries, just pure bliss. The thought was so tempting, the car could grant her that wish and others.

So she'd kept track of the car, quietly and slowly following it as it was driven down the cluttered streets and parked on curbs and in lots. She'd hidden behind a dumpster as the car had stilled in an alleyway, the driver turning the headlights out and opening his door. She hadn't gotten a good look at the driver in the darkness of the alleyway, but she had seen him go into the bar that was adjacent to the pathway.

Emma had figured she'd wait till she knew the man wasn't coming out of the bar but she must've fallen asleep next to the dumpster because next thing she knew it'd been morning. And the bug was where it had been before she'd fallen asleep.

Now was her chance. She hurried toward the car and stopped in front of the driver's door, peeking over her shoulder, she pulled the Slim Jim from her sleeve. She quickly unlocked the door and slid inside. Taking a breath Emma pulled out the screw driver and rocker that she'd stuffed into her bag; she stuck the screwdriver into the ignition. When it was firmly in the slot she turned it and gave a sigh of relief when the bug groaned to life. Tossing her bag onto the seat next to her, she pulled out of the alley and drove toward the street. Her heart hammering in her chest and her lips turning up into a smile.

She was free.

Emma had only been driving for about ten minutes when she realized she wasn't completely alone in the car. She'd been making a right turn when a voice had spoken and a head had popped up from the backseat.

"Mind if we make a pit stop?" The voice was rough, like they'd just woken up, and close to her right ear.

With a gasp Emma's foot slammed on the break, making her jerk forward, she turned around to come face to face with the owner of the voice.

Emma's throat tightened and she felt her stomach squeeze.

It was the man from yesterday, the owner of the bug; why had he been sleeping in his car?

"FYI, if you're gonna steal a car, make sure it's _empty_ of any passengers." He gave an exaggerated eye roll and smirked at her.

Emma swallowed thickly, she opened her mouth but she couldn't find any words. How could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she looked to see if anyone had been in the car, or more specifically, the backseat?

"Look, I can see you're a bit taken aback, so to make this less awkward than it already is, I'll make you a deal." He raised a pair of dark eyebrows, his brown eyes alight with humor.

Finally Emma spoke: "I—I just _stole_ your car! Why aren't you . . . I dunno, pissed?" Her voice was high and shaky. She'd never been caught taking something before. Especially a car.

The man gave a low chuckle, "Well, technically, this isn't my car."

"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You may have stolen an already stolen car." He gave a small, humorous smirk.

"Wait, this is already stolen?"

"Well, yeah, I just said that." He rolled his eyes again.

Emma was about to tell him to stuff it when she heard the siren and saw the flashing red and blue lights in the review mirror. She felt herself freeze and her heart bang frantically in her chest. The last thing she needed was to go to jail for stealing a stolen car.

"Shit! Here, take out the screwdriver." The man hissed and held out his hand for it.

Emma quickly pulled the tool out of the slot and gave it to him. He then gave her a pair of silver keys which she stuck into the ignition.

"Just be cool." She heard him whisper.

Two sharp raps had her opening her eyes and turning to look out her window, a tall police officer stood on the other side. She rolled the window down and cleared her throat, trying to sound calm, "C–Can I help you, officer?"

"Do you know why I stopped you today, ma'am?" The officer's face was stern, his voice deep and hard.

"No."

"You were parked with your blinker on." His eyes went to the dashboard, Emma followed his gaze to see the small, green arrow blinking repeatedly.

She switched it off and bit her lip, "Sorry, I–I was. . . .Distracted."

"How so?"

"My fault, officer." The man from the backseat spoke up, his tone easy and calm. The officer raised an eyebrow at him, his lips turned down in a confused frown. "I was teaching my girlfriend how to drive stick and she's having some trouble." He rolled his eyes as if to say _women, am I right?_

"Your _girlfriend_?"

Emma couldn't help but agree with the officer, no one would believe this man's lie, the guy had to be about 23. Like any sane person would openly date a 17 year old girl.

"Yes." The man smiled, "Girlfriend."

The officer let out a huff and crossed his arms, "Alright, you sure that's all you were doing?"

"Yes, of course."

The officer looked from the man to Emma, his eyes searching her face, she tried to make it look blank. She couldn't give anything away. Lie or not.

"Okay." He took a step back from the car, "I'll let you off with a warning. But next time, you won't be so lucky."

Emma held her breath as she watched the officer walk back toward his car and drive ahead of them, his sirens and lights off. She let the breath out and slumped in her seat, her head spinning. _That was too close._

"So . . . about that deal I said earlier." The man said.

Emma turned around to face him, he was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. "Why the hell would I make a deal with you?" She narrowed her eyes at him. She should just get out of the car and—

And what? She had nowhere to go and no one to go to.

"Because if you don't you'll be on your ass and I'll be on my way out of Portland."

That had her attention. "You're leaving Portland too?" Her voice was soft.

"Yup. Sick of this cold weather, I want to go somewhere where snow is nonexistent."

Emma bit her lip, her eyes looking down at her hands, pale and a bit chapped, "Y-Yeah, same here."

"Well, here's my deal then: you work with me to get out of Portland and I'll make sure you end up in a warm place." He flashed a charming smile and Emma felt her chest tighten—and it wasn't because she was nervous.

"Okay." She gave him a small smile.

"Great, we got a deal." He held his hand out and Emma shook it, his grip warm and soft, it sent an electric shock up her arm.

"I'm Neal Cassidy, by the way." He said as he pulled his hand away.

"I'm Emma. Emma Swan." Her small smile turned into a grin.

Neal grinned back at her, "So, Emma, do you like pancakes?"

* * *

"What brings you to Portland?" Neal asked as he drizzled syrup over his banana nut pancakes.

They sat in a red booth in a diner that was a little outside of Portland, it was small and smelled of bacon and burnt coffee beans. Not a lot of people where around, just a few truckers and a small group of teenagers. All passing through on their way to Somewhere.

"Um . . . nothing special." She answered, her eyes trained on her own plate of pancakes.

She couldn't tell him that she'd bailed on her last foster home, she had thought she'd finally found The One. The home where she'd stay forever and have a real family who loved her. But she'd been wrong, _again_. They hadn't loved her, they'd only wanted her so that they could get paid by the state for housing her. It was like she'd been a job to them, only wanting her for the money she'd bring them.

Well not anymore. Emma was done with them and the whole foster system in general. She wouldn't be a guaranteed paycheck to them or to anyone. She'd go off on her own and give herself a life that'd be better than all her fantasies put together.

"Must be special if you're stealing cars, huh?" Neal's voice had a teasing edge to it, when she looked up his eyes were on her face. Dark and deep, hypnotizing.

That fluttery feeling went through her stomach again.

"Maybe." She murmured, she fiddled with her fork, "So, what about you? What are you doing here?"

Neal took a bite of his pancakes, his eyes bouncing around the diner as he chewed, "Same as you, nothing special." He answered after swallowing, his eyes trained on her again.

"Why were you sleeping in your car?" Emma picked up her fork and pushed a piece of food into her mouth. The pancakes was warm and buttery, the blueberries dancing across her tongue. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a meal this good.

Neal chuckled, "Why does anyone sleep in their car? Homelessness is a thing, Emma."

Her cheeks felt warm when her name fell from his lips, it was teasing and sweet. She dropped her fork against her plate and took a long drink from her water glass. The cool liquid putting out the fire underneath her skin.

"Sorry, I–I didn't mean—"

"No, I know." He raised a hand to stop her, "No harm done."

She bit her lip, the silence heavy around them, she took another bite of her food before saying: "If it helps, I'm kind of homeless too."

His mouth kicked up a bit at the corner, crooked and charming, "Well, I suppose that does help. A bit."

Emma felt her own lips tilt up into a small smirk, "Good."

They ate in silence, it wasn't awkward though, more comfortable and easy. She glanced up once in a while to see him either looking around the dinner or at her. Mostly at her.

"What?" She asked when she caught him looking at her.

"Nothin'." He murmured as he leaned back in his seat, arms folded.

"Whatever." She smiled and went back to her pancakes.

Though Emma could still feel Neal's eyes on her. And she liked it.


End file.
